Sound
by silvereyesish
Summary: [Oneshot, VxW, shounenai angst] Night after night he heard the sound, until finally, he had to care...


**Sound  
**Author - Silvereyesish  
Genre- Angsty at first...  
Rating - PG. A slight case of shounen-ai.  
Summary- Night after night he heard the sound, until finally, he had to care.

**Disclaimer -**  
I do not own Trigun itself... but I do own much merchandise.

* * *

There was that sound again. 

At night, he awoke to that sound. It was a quiet sound, something barely noticable. Something that, although it was hushed, was painful to listen to. Every night, he waited to hear it, and when he got… lucky, for lack of a better word, he tried to ignore it, tried to fall back asleep, blot the sound from his mind. But even when the sound had ceased, it echoed in his ears, tugging at his heartstrings relentlessly. No matter what he did to distract himself, the sound lingered throughout the rest of the night.

It was difficult to come up with excuses as to why he was so exhausted lately. His companions, mostly a certain blonde gunman, would ask him question after question. Eventually, the girls would let the subject drop, but that damned blonde kept asking, prodding and poking and whining until Wolfwood would snap at him, leaving Vash looking like a kicked puppy.

Sometimes, Meryl would scold him. Other times, he'd recieve a disaproving glance from Milly. He wasn't sure what was worse, although he had a feeling that if he was forced to tell, it'd be the latter. With Meryl, he could just ignore whatever biting comments she sent at him with ease. But Milly's glance had the power to make the priest feel dirty, contaminated, like he wasn't worthy to live.

That seemed to be the case throughout most of his life.

Again, the sound echoed in his ears. It was muffled by a pillow, and Wolfwood was surprised he could even hear it, but then again, his ears had always been sharp. As always, he repressed the urge to get up and do something about the noise. He repressed the urge to care, because caring about people led to trusting them, and trusting people was something that Wolfwood simply did not do. There was too much risk, too much of a chance that the people he cared about would die. Preventing those deaths that was easy enough. Just don't care, and you'll be fine, he warned himself.

Psh. Like that ever worked.

Despite his efforts, Wolfwood could not stop caring. He cared about the insurance girls, he cared whether they lived or died, he cared when he saw the girls fight for their lives, he cared when he saw Vash risk his life yet again for another person who would only end up ungrateful in the end, he cared when he heard the noise that Vash made in his sleep, the noise that kept him up hours on end…

Wolfwood's bed creaked as the priest stood up and made his way to the other side of the room.

For a moment, he paused to watch what happened when Vash made the sound. Wolfwood had never turned to look, not wanting to tempt himself. He'd only heard, not seen, the pain that the blonde relived in his sleep, and now, as he watched, he knew he never wanted to again.

Vash thrased in his sleep, the sound that was like a whimper, a sob, but so full of hurt that words couldn't even give it a name coming from his lips. Nothing was on the bed except for the gunman and a pillow that he grasped desperately in his arms. He was still fully clothed, and Wolfwood knew that the red coat had never, and probably wouldn't ever, come off in his presence. The blonde's face was twisted, full of emotions that Wolfwood felt but couldn't name, and it only made the priest wonder more what the man had gone through…

Wolfwood sat down on the edge of the bed, and reached out. His hand had almost grasped Vash's shoulder when the gunman sat up straight in bed, with a sharp, breathless gasp.

Startled, Wolfwood withdrew his hand as quickly as possible, and considered trying to rush back to his own bed, to cover up this mistake. But when Vash looked up at him, eyes full of tears and raw emotion, the priest couldn't will himself to move.

"Wolf…Wolfwood?" the gunman asked uncertainly, as if he was unsure if he was still dreaming.

Wolfwood paused, willing his brain to let him give Vash a genuine smile. However, it seemed his brain was not up to such a challenge, and the expression the blonde received was only a ghost of the reassurance and comfort that Wolfwood wanted to give. The priest winced mentally, and attempted to cover up his empty smile by saying something, _anything_, when Vash frowned even more deeply.

"I wish you wouldn't smile like that, Wolfwood. It's so empty it's painful to watch."

Wolfwood blinked, hearing his own words redirected at him. Words that he had once said to Vash, in what seemed like years ago. The priest bit his lip, annoyed that all of the emotions that he had held back for so long were rushing in and taking over, all because of those simple words.

"You… you Needle Noggin…" was all he could manage before he broke down, sobbing.

He hated himself for crying, for the weakness that it implied, for how selfish he was being by feeling this way when Vash needed the care and attention. But the flood wouldn't stop now that it had started. Years and years of bottled up pain and sadness ran freely down his face, and it was all he could do to try and turn away, so that Vash wouldn't see. The blonde couldn't see this, because being the caring man he was, he would try to comfort Wolfwood, and the priest couldn't allow that, couldn't let the gunman suffer more.

But even as he turned away, he felt Vash's hands, pulling him back. Wolfwood struggled for a moment, knowing that if he didn't then, he never would. But Vash was strong, or at least stronger than Wolfwood was at that point in time, and it was seconds before Vash had pulled Wolfwood into a haphazard hug.

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of the priest's desperate cries and the sound of Vash's relentless flow of comforting words.

Eventually, the cries subsided, and Wolfwood let himself be held for a minute more before trying to move away. But Vash, silent now, only tightened his grip. Again, the priest struggled, but he paused when Vash spoke again, calmly.

"You don't have to worry about me, Nick. I'm fine, and I always will be—"

"That's a load of crap."

A shocked silence settled between them, broken only by Wolfwood's shuddery breaths.

"I…I can hear you, when you have those nightmares of yours…it's hard to listen to. I've tried to keep my distance, but I can't ignore something like… like that." The priest said, pausing between words to take a shaky breath.

Vash let go of Wolfwood rather suddenly, and moved so quickly to the corner of the bed that the priest barely saw it. The gunman curled up into a ball, leaning against the wall, his usually spiky locks falling over his face. Vash stared at the bedcovers, and Wolfwood noticed the blonde wince when he saw the pillow.

"I didn't mean to wake you up, Wolfwood. Like I said, you don't have to worry about me…"

The priest heard the shaky tone at the end of Vash's sentence, and knew that the man was trying to hold back tears. The urge to do something overpowered all of Wolfwood's senses, and suddenly, the priest found his lips touching Vash's, found Vash's lips responding, found his fingers running through the blonde strands.

They paused, broke apart, faces barely an inch from each other. Vash's face was damp with tears, and despite the situation, Wolfwood chuckled.

"I'm not that bad of a kisser, am I?"

Vash snorted, and pulled Wolfwood back into another kiss.

"Don't ruin the moment," the blonde gunman mumbled, and the priest found that now, he could really, truly smile.

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-----End-----  
_Silvereyesish_


End file.
